


Softly, Into the Peaceful Abyss

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Houdini & Doyle (TV)
Genre: Caretaking, F/M, Gen, Illnesses, Shippy Gen, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 11:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8054131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: It's just a stomachache. It's just a stomachache. It's just —





	Softly, Into the Peaceful Abyss

The pain was sharp and stabbing and it jerked through his stomach like a knife straight to his gut. His legs buckled and down he went - or he would have, if he hadn't been standing next to the door, where he could grab ahold of the doorknob to keep himself up. Fingers splayed against his stomach, fingertips pressing into tender skin as he gasped for breath, feeling nauseous and shaky.

"Harry?"

A breath blew out from gnawed lips; he shook his head at Adelaide, and then cringed as the pain crashed back through his body. "Ohh..."

"Harry!"

"No, I'm fine." He held out a hand and, with great effort, pushed himself up to full height. "It's just a stomachache." He huffed out another breath and then breathed in slowly, holding onto the air as he waited for the pain to level out.

"A stomachache?" Adelaide was looking at him with all the determined intent that he was used to seeing from her, but he wished that she wasn't looking at _him_ that way when he felt like he was going to collapse. "What from?"

He shook his head slightly. "I don't know."

"How long has it been hurting?"

"I don't know." Houdini dragged his fingers through his hair and took a hesitant step away from the door. His knees didn't buckle. That was a good sign. "It comes and goes, sometimes. Aches and pains, kind of used to those. I'm fine."

"And how long has it been _coming and going_ for?" Adelaide asked, as her hand pressed against his wrist. She looked ready to grab his hand, or hold him up if she needed to.

The thought made Harry smile, just a little. "Not long. I promise."

She didn't look like she believed him. And from the way that he'd almost met with the floorboards, Houdini doubted that he would have, either. His pain tolerance was not a secret. How many people had he provoked into taking a punch at him, only to have him walk away without being out of breath? But this stomachache knocking the air right out of him... no, he was sure he was fine.

"If you're certain..." She still looked unconvinced, but did not press. Maybe she trusted him. Maybe she suspected that he would know better. Or maybe she knew by now, how incredibly stubborn he could be, especially when he had shows oncoming in the week.

"I am. I'll even have the doc check me out before my shows this week. How's that?" He dragged up a smile that was definitely less than certain, although he was determined not to show it. He _would_ have the doctor check it out, if only to placate Adelaide. He was sure it was nothing, but if only for Adelaide, and the worried look plastered into her eyes.

She nodded slowly. "If it gets worse, will you tell me?"

"Sure." Harry laughed, and finally unwound his fingers from where they had twisted into his shirt. They felt numb from the grip, and there was sweat prickling at his back. He was sure it was nothing. "Sure."

　

 

　

"Fuck." The word was muffled beneath a soft tone and the press of his face into the crook of his arm. The condensation from the glass beneath his hand only distracted him by the way his palm was sliding. He tried to dig the heel of his hand in and he tried to focus on the bite of his fingernails into his opposite palm.

"Mr Houdini?"

"I'm fine... Florrie."

"We don't have to go through with rehearsal, if you're feeling unwell."

"I said I'm fine- Oh, _God_." His hand slipped from the glass; he crashed against the side of the tank, legs barely keeping himself standing again. What was this _pain_?

"Mr Houdini!"

"Get me an aspirin! Or something stronger. I need to practise."

"But-"

" _Go_ , Florrie!"

He groaned and slid down the rest of the way to the ground, hugging his knees to his chest. The promise to let his doctor look him over was becoming less a placating promise and more of something that would have to be done. He _had_ planned on it, just... later rather than sooner. He couldn't keep going on like this now. It would lead to disaster before he could ignore it, and this level of pain was too dangerous with the performances he was doing tomorrow.

"Here, Mr Houdini; is there anything else? Are you certain you should practise?"

Houdini's breath shook again, but he took the medication and the glass of proffered water without pause. "Yes. Finish preparing... just give me a minute here."

"If you insist..."

"I do," he said stubbornly and, gritting his teeth, forced himself back to his feet.

　

 

　

The degree of his mistake came with a rush of terrible burning into his lungs, and Harry's eyes widened as he stared through the water and the glass and at the curtain outside of the tank.

He should have talked to the doctor before the show. He shouldn't have gone into the water with the pain that was ravaging his stomach, but it was nothing! It should have been nothing! Except it _was_ , and he was realising that now, after that stabbing sensation had torn through with enough intensity to make his eyes water, and make him gasp in reflex; that inhale was his downfall, hanging upside-down in the water tank, and forget the pain: he was drowning.

He needed to get out of here. He blinked back the black spots in his vision and went for the next lock. Except his hands were empty; where was the- oh. Oh. He must have dropped it. Oh.

If his stomach wasn't so busy hurting so badly, it would have dropped to his feet. Or, in this case, his head.

The sharp bite of pain crashed back over him; he would have doubled over, he gasped instead, and more water rushed into mouth. The black spots widened and expanded. He barely heard his own whine against the rushing in his ears. He curled his hands into fists, trying to find the glass walls of the tank. He needed air, he needed morphine, he —

— opened his eyes and coughed water from his mouth and doubled over his side, and he was laid out on the drenched floor of the stage, shivering and sweating and surrounded by people.

"Harry- _Harry!_ "

"Ma'am, I implore you-"

"I'm a police officer with Scotland Yard; get out of my way!"

Harry dragged his eyes open again. "Adelaide?" he rasped, and tried to lift his head. What was she doing here...?

"Harry! Shh, shh, you're okay." She dropped down next to him, hands on his shoulders and his face and in his hair. "You're okay."

"... mm." His eyelids fluttered closed. He wanted to get his arms around his stomach, but someone was holding onto his hand, no, his wrist. Checking his pulse. He wanted to sleep. He wanted the pain to go away.

"Is the ambulance on the way?" Another familiar voice... was that Doyle? What were they...

He inhaled sharply, and it came out with a groan.

"Hang in there, Harry," Adelaide murmured, smoothing his hair out of his face. "Doctor Doyle and your company called for an ambulance. You'll be fine."

What were they _doing here_? Why were there so many people? What had happened to his audience? He hadn't finished his show. Was he dying? Was he-

The agony continued, and he wondered if he was going to win the battle this time.

　

　

 

"- rry... Harry..."

His head felt heavy, full of cotton and wet wool. Someone was speaking. He couldn't open his eyes. He was aware that he had a body, but the sensation that he had limbs, and could use them? He... couldn't...

"Harry."

Her voice... he knew that voice... _Ma...?_ He wanted to speak. He couldn't. He wanted to speak... he wanted to see her... it had been so long...

"Harry?"

Wait... that wasn't Ma. She didn't call him Harry. Hardly anybody called him Harry. It was always Erich or Houdini. So, who...

"You're okay, Harry." There were fingers brushing against his hair. Like... earlier. She had been... oh... Adelaide?

"Ad..." his voice cracked. Frustration rushed sickly through his veins. He couldn't speak. He couldn't open his eyes. He didn't dare move, expecting the pain from before. He had been... performing. Drowning. Now he was smothered with a wet blanket... Adelaide's fingers were curling around his hair. No. He wasn't smothered with a wet blanket. It was dry. Warm and dry.

"Harry? Harry, hey."

Finally he cracked his eyes open. It was bright, and he blinked rapidly in reflex, and then Adelaide's face loomed into his vision.

"Harry. Welcome back," Adelaide said softly, and she smiled. It barely reached her eyes. She looked exhausted, and worried. And... crying. She was... crying.

"... hey," he whispered. He reached up slowly, barely able to find his arms, to brush his fingers beneath her eyes. "... why're you... crying? You're too... pretty for... for that."

Adelaide laughed weakly, catching his hand. "Harry," she admonished. She turned her head away, and Houdini didn't miss how she swept her tears away quickly.

"... what's happening?" Consciousness was slow in coming, but he had found the ability to speak, and to wiggle his fingers into Adelaide's hand. "... what happened...?"

"Harry- it's," she sucked in a deep breath and turned back to him, and there was that forced smile again. "Your stomach was hurting because of your appendix, Harry."

Appendix...? What... that was causing his stomachache? He had thought maybe it had been... a flu or something. But his appendix? What did... _that_ mean, then? _Was_ he dying? Adelaide was crying- Why was it so hard to think? For the moment, his stomach didn't hurt; he just felt sick instead.

"Addie," he ground out. He squeezed at her fingers, and smiled a little when she squeezed them back. Not the ideal situation, but he'd take it. "Give it to me... straight. What's my... prognosis? I can... handle it."

Adelaide laughed; it was a strangely hollow sound, one that managed to sound both hollow and hysterical and _horrified_. It put the hair on the back of his neck on end, and Addie turned away, pulling her hand away to scrub at the tears that were beginning anew.

Oh.

He was dying.

... _Oh_.

Harry swallowed, forced his heavy hand to grab for Adelaide's arm again. "... Addie... Addie." He curled his fingers around her wrist. "Hey. Everybody... everybody dies, Addie. 'm no different."

"Why didn't you _say anything_?" she demanded, looking like she was primed to throw his hand off. She clasped it between both of hers instead. "Why didn't you? I could hit you!"

"Please don't." Harry laughed weakly. "I'm in enough pain as is."

Now Adelaide did react in the way she'd threatened; she pulled her hand away to slap at his shoulder and Harry jumped. The flare of pain he expected from his stomach didn't come. Not at the level he expected, anyway. "Addie!"

"They took out your appendix! You had me _so_ worried, Doctor Doyle, too. You should have _told_ someone. You could have _died_ , Harry!"

Wait. His head was spinning. His shoulder was stinging from where she'd slapped it. They'd taken out his appendix...? So did that mean he _wasn't_ dying? What was - "Addie," he rasped, "what's - 'm not-?"

"I would throttle you myself," Adelaide said sharply. But then her expression softened, if only slightly. She just looked _tired_. "You're going to be okay," she murmured. Her hand fluttered over the hospital gown, fixing it over his shoulder. "They said... your appendix was about to rupture." Her hand smoothed against his bicep and stayed there. "If it had, there would have been nothing..."

"... Why did you let me think..." he trailed off, clapping his hand over hers again. "... That's not very nice," he mumbled, lips tugging into a tiny, weary smile.

"You're not very nice for keeping this to yourself."

"I thought it was just the flu," he mumbled. "... sorry." His eyelids kept fluttering. "How long've... I been asleep?"

"You've been in and out for a few hours. This is the first time you've been really aware, though."

"Ah." If he'd been out so long, how could he be so groggy? How long would this lingering tiredness last? When could he go back to work? And speaking of... "Hey..." He dragged his eyes open again. "You and Doyle were at my show..."

Adelaide's smile seemed robotic at this point. Harry wished he could help fix that, but it was a struggle just to stay awake. "We had just gotten a lead on our case. We came to find you after the show."

"... oh." There went his eyes closed again. "Thought maybe you both just... couldn't stay away." Another twitch of the lips, hoping for a minute smile.

"You would have liked me to say that," Adelaide replied. It sounded like maybe the smile was a little more genuine. "Go back to sleep, Harry."

Houdini hummed in consent. He was already in hospital; he might as well take it easy. There was no escaping here until he was better. Trust him, he'd tried before. He just generally didn't have surgeries when he was here.

He turned his face into the pillow and tucked his head between the pillow and his shoulder, sighing a little. He felt a combination of both unfeeling and being prodded at with a dull pain, but it was too much to focus on. Sleep sounded much better, and he was already tumbling into that peaceful darkness.

"Good night, Harry." Her hand, still resting on his arm, tightened briefly; Harry was vaguely aware of the sound of movement before lips were pressed against his forehead, soft and fleeting. He wanted to claw his way back to consciousness for that action, but to no avail. "I'll be here when you wake up," Adelaide continued softly, and the stool next to the bed creaked as she sat back.

He managed to huff a breath in response - _thank you, you don't have to but thank you, and I'm also aware enough to know you kissed me can we talk about this when I'm not struggling from this exhaustion?_

Adelaide's hand stayed on his shoulder. The warmth lulled him into a painless slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> The first piece I've managed to get finished in like two months the writer's block is real T_T but you know the show went all AUish at the end SO I TOOK THE LIBERTY TOO. though I did entertain just writing it the way it happened in reality. God that Houdini miniseries with Adrien Brody? (If you haven't watched it you must you must) That thing wrecked me. So I didn't do it here, although that inspired this lol
> 
> I do not own _Houdini and Doyle_. Thanks for reading!


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